If Only I'd Known
by shipperfey
Summary: House can’t sleep. HouseCameron, future fluff.


**Title: If Only I'd Known (1/1)**  
**Author:** Alice J. Foster (shipperfey)

**Summary:** House can't sleep.  
**Spoilers:** none  
**Category/Warnings:** Future-fic, holiday-fic, POV, fluff. Pure fluff.  
**Pairing/Characters:** House/Cameron, OC  
**Word count:** 717  
**Rating:** PG-13 (I use the f-word)

**A/N:** This is my first H/C fluffy fic. I feel awful.

**Started:** 12/14/06  
**Finished:** 12/14/06  
**Revised: **05/11/08

Something brings me to consciousness and I tentatively open one eye.

Sure it could be my old pal insomnia, but it probably has more to do with the fucking loud snoring that's coming from the other side of my bed.

I should probably diagnose her with a bad case of apnea and operate on her while she's sleeping. Removing her entire nose _might_ be the answer. Then again, she'd still be able to make those annoyingly loud breathing sounds off the back of her throat.

Eight years sharing a bed and I am still not used to it. Can't teach an old dog new tricks… old habits die hard – all that crap's true.

Of course, what is pissing me off the most right now isn't the snoring, but the fact that her increasing size is taking up most of the bed, and my bad leg has to rest on top of hers when I sleep on my left side. Her stomach's pressed to mine and I feel a sharp kick, or maybe a punch and I realize this little bastard (figuratively speaking) is probably going to follow his siblings' taste for national holidays and decide to come out at 11:30pm on New Year's Eve.

So far I've missed one Thanksgiving dinner and one Fourth of the July. Not that I enjoy celebrating either holiday, but it would've been nice not to have to go to the hospital on the few days of the year that I _don't have to go to the hospital_.

I move away from Snoring Beauty and before I can sit up, something launches itself at me…

… actually, some_one_. A thirty-five-pound someone.

"It's time, it's time, it's time!" she repeats over and over, as she jumps on the bed. My wife's already stirring so I know it's too late to try to quiet Emily down.

"No, it is not, and what have I told you about jumping on our bed?" I ask her and she actually has the decency to look ashamed.

"I'm sowwy," she says, and I would believe her except I've seen this face on her too many times. My daughter's such a good actress; I don't care if she's not even four, she deserves an Oscar - or an Emmy at the least.

"What time is it?" Cameron asks next to me, rubbing her eyes sleepily and Emily crawls over me to get a good morning kiss from her mother.

I quickly glance over at the bedside table. "Four-thirty," I inform her and she groans. I know how she feels; honestly we're just trying to get as much sleep as possible during these last few precious infant-less weeks.

"I think I heard Santa, Mommy," Emily proudly informs Cameron, who smiles. It's actually a wonder we haven't fucked up the Santa story yet, all things considered. Even Matthew still believes, or at least he says he does so he won't disappoint Emily.

Emily got my chin and penchant for being less than truthful; Matthew got Cameron's eyes and morals. With our luck, this third baby will end up a lawyer or a stripper (I don't know which one is worse).

I know as well as my wife does that there's absolutely no way in hell we'll be able to keep Emily away from the gifts downstairs for more than a few minutes; Her Majesty has deemed that 'tis Christmas morning, so we might as well give in.

I sit up so I can pick her up from the middle of the bed, and then I set her down on the floor. "Go wake up Matt and we'll go open some gifts, okay?"

She is out of the door in a split second and I lie back down for a few moments. My wife's eyes stare into mine, and she's got a cryptic smile on her face.

I scoff dramatically. "If I'd known a broken condom eight years ago would result in this…" I let my sentence trail off.

"You would've double-bagged it?" She jokes and I can't help but smile.

"I wouldn't have done it any differently," I tell her before planting a soft kiss on one chubby cheek.

We share a long sigh as the sounds of excited children fill the house.

**Revision Note (added 05/11/08): ** I wrote this in response to a challenge, and Cameron wasn't pregnant in the first draft… but then I figured "what the hell, it's already so fluffy it's going to put people in a sugar coma, might as well go the whole way," and so Pregnant Snoring Cameron was born. Unfortunately, I forgot to remove a line about her drinking spike eggnog the night before, and since I don't condone alcoholic beverages during pregnancies (no matter how frothy and delicious), I went ahead and did a small revision to remove that line and to fix a few minor grammatical mistakes.


End file.
